Compatibility has been reduced to an algorithm on Web sites like eHarmony and Perfectmatch. But computers lack a personal touch, so people in one of the most wired regions of the country are turning to an age-old, decidedly unscientific method to find partners: professional matchmaking. The combination of residents' wealth and frenetic lifestyle makes the Bay Area fertile ground for these companies. The business models vary as much as the personalities of the cupids - some are overinvolved, motherly types, while others come across as hip girlfriends. We take a closer look at four women in the field.

One of the first things Marsha Winer shows me when I enter her San Francisco office, on the second floor of a building erected before the 1906 earthquake and stuck above a bar and next to a detective agency, are photos. There are 50 pictures of couples lining her desk, walls and end table. She tells me the stories of a whole lot of them.

"He's on his fourth marriage. I hope this one sticks. She's on her second," she says, gesturing toward one couple. In case you're wondering, no, she hadn't set them up with their previous spouses."This one's a doctor. The other's a lawyer. They were my most fun match," Winer tells me, pointing toward another.

Winer, who declines to reveal her age, runs Introductions by Marsha, a 24-year-old matchmaking company. She says that at least 230 of her clients have married each other. She works with 100 clients at a time and has matched more than 1,500 people.

Winer is a warm, approachable woman who left the house this cold winter morning with wet hair, dressed in a brown suit and black boots. She constantly fiddles with her hair, elaborates a lot and leaves voicemails so long the machine sometimes cuts her off. Winer is pushy, direct and over-conscientious - useful traits in this field.

"She pushed me out on a date. I didn't want to go," says Lana Carter, a software engineer and former client. Winer had wanted to introduce Carter to a man 2 inches shorter than what Carter had specified. "Marsha called and said, 'You have to meet this guy. We don't get guys like this. He's incredible.' I went. That was it. I met the right guy," Carter said.

The two married nine months later.

Winer credits the success of her matches to her 20-minute, twice-a-day meditation sessions, which she says unleash her creativity.

"It's not always about what they say and what's written on paper," Winer says. "I know the right thing to do."

One of Winer's clients, a 52-year-old engineer, says, "In a relatively short period of time, she sizes you up as a person and knows a lot about you." Winer often guesses a client's age, height, birth order or educational credentials during her first conversation with them over the phone. Sometimes she even matches people over the phone. Winer has no formal training in matchmaking, but notes her psychology background - she has a master's degree in guidance and counseling from Oakland University in Rochester, Mich.

Winer never expected to become a matchmaker. She was born and raised in Detroit, the middle child of a salesman and an executive secretary. Her parents, now in their late 80s, have been married for 67 years.

Winer was not as fortunate in love. She wedded her high school sweetheart after she graduated from the University of Michigan. But seven years and zero children later, they divorced. "We were too young when we married," she says.

After her divorce, she fled the Midwest cold and moved to California in 1979. Shortly thereafter, Winer went out with a man who owned a dating service and found the industry intriguing.

"There's the potential for someone to find a life partner," Winer says. "You're surrounded by hope."

She began working part time at a matchmaking company, and when the company folded, Winer decided to go into business on her own, partly because one of her boyfriends thought she'd be good at it.

If you were to become a client of Winer's, you'd start off with a phone interview. She'd follow up with an in-person consultation consisting of an in-depth personality questionnaire if you're one of the 70 percent she thinks she can match. Winer won't work with belligerent men or borderline personalities. And she rarely takes on uneducated men because many of her female clients have college degrees and don't want to intimidate potential partners. If you sign up, you'll pay $2,000 a year for at least six introductions, and if you end up getting married, it's customary to pay Winer a bonus. And maybe invite her to the wedding. But, at the very least, send a photo for her collection.

Melinda Maximova

Melinda Maximova and her first boyfriend were best buddies. They biked together, bathed together and kissed. After they had arguments, he brought her flowers. Eventually, she moved and their affair could not withstand the distance. They broke up after four years. She was 7, he was 8.

"I was boy crazy (starting) at a young age," Maximova says. "My organ is my heart. That's what leads me."

Maximova's passion for romance is fitting for her career as a headhunter for love. Maximova, 41, is the founder of Perfect Search, a firm that helps high-earning men find serious relationships. The company is based in San Francisco and has 13 agents in three cities. Perfect Search accepts all clients who are willing to pay a minimum of $5,500 a year.

While traditional matchmakers tend to pair paying clients with each other, with Perfect Search, only the men pay a fee. Agents then go out to recruit women for the clients, and the women join for free. Maximova says there's a conflict of interest if both parties pay because there's a stronger tendency for matchmakers to introduce people when only one party is attracted. Also, Maximova says, men tend to be more willing to pay for services.

Maximova could pass for a model, but don't be misled by her feminine style. Beneath the makeup, geometric print BCBG dress and knee-high brown suede boots is an assertive businesswoman.

"She's half male. She dresses feminine but she thinks like a man," says a former client, Mr. Ponytail (not his real name), founder and owner of a filtration business in the East Bay. "She meets men and convinces them everything will be OK. All you do is write a check and she'll take care of everything else."

When Maximova was running the company solo, she brought in $250,000 of business a year. Her agents, who work on commission, can expect to earn $100,000 a year. Maximova envisions expanding Perfect Search's presence to every city and becoming the Match.com of personal headhunting.

"Melinda's very convincing. She's full of energy," says Soniyah Singh, 30, national coordinator and an agent for Perfect Search. "Matchmaking, it has to be inside of you, what you love to do. I saw that in Melinda. That's what I kind of want to be like."

Maximova has always been a self-starter. The third of four children, she was born to a teacher and a salesman in Illinois. Her parents divorced when she was 6, and she and her mother moved a lot when she was growing up. At age 19, Maximova relocated to California and spent a few years as an account executive before entering San Francisco State University, where she planned to become a sex-education teacher. But she decided against more schooling after college and found work instead at the city public health department.

Quickly discovering she didn't want to be a "safety nerd," she quit after a year. The next nine years, she worked as a mosaic artist and then an executive recruiter. On the side, she started working part time at a singles club coordinating social events. She heard customers grumbling that they couldn't meet people because they were always grouped by age. Maximova decided she could do a better job and married her executive recruiting skills with her interest in relationships to start Perfect Search in 2003.

Maximova and her agents perform personality interviews with the men and show them photos of women, but she says there's no formula to the pairings.

"It's the ability to get into someone and figure out their style," Maximova says. The matches are a combination of what men want and what Maximova thinks they need, something she decides through intuition and experience.

Working for Perfect Match has benefited Maximova in more ways than one. Her marriage dissolved three years ago and in the course of coaching Mr. Ponytail, they discovered they were each other's ideal partner. On the day I'm visiting, Mr. Ponytail shows up with a bouquet of vibrantly colored flowers, just as Maximova's first boyfriend did more than 35 years ago. But this time, it's for no special occasion.

Jill and Amber Kelleher

It's easier to get into Stanford as a freshman than to hire Kelleher and Associates. On this sunny day, Amber Kelleher-Andrews, co-owner of the boutique matchmaking firm in Sausalito, is reviewing 97 applications from across the country and will accept fewer than nine.

They're only as successful as their clients are matchable, Amber tells me over a lunch of endive salad and caprino at Poggio.

Translation: Kelleher and Associates will take you only if you're accomplished, passionate, physically fit, free of addictions to tobacco, alcohol and drugs, clinically sane, marriage-minded, realistic about yourself and your prospective partner and in possession of a good attitude.

"If someone's rude, it's not worth it. If a woman's set in her ways, she'll never be satisfied. Why bother?" Amber says.

And there's one more factor to getting accepted: You must be able to afford the services with your disposable income. If you take out a mortgage to hire them, it's too much pressure. Packages start at $6,500 for a year of introductions to local clients. A fee of $25,000 buys membership to the dozen branches, and $45,000 a nationwide search. At $100,000, you work personally with a co-owner and get 40 percent of your money back if you're unsatisfied. And for $150,000, the co-owners will conduct an international search.

Amber lets me glance at two profiles in the database. The women look like models, but they're young doctors. Other matchmakers may provide clients with extra services, such as image consulting, but Amber tells me her customers are such A-list entrepreneurs, entertainers and socialites that she'd never match them with someone who needed such coaching.

"It would be a little off kilter," she says.

Amber herself doesn't need image consulting. The former actress has appeared on "Baywatch" and "Melrose Place," and comes off as both beautiful and accessible. "She doesn't have many weaknesses. Her strengths are intelligence and empathy," says Nico Andrews, Amber's husband of eight years and father of their three children. He adds that Amber is so intuitive that if she's not around when one of the children falls, she'll actually sense it and call home.

Amber got into matchmaking through her mother, Jill. The elder Kelleher got a job photographing clients for a singles company in Marin in 1980 and found she had a knack for matching people, so she opened Kelleher and Associates in 1986.

Amber studied anthropology at Santa Barbara City College, but left school early to pursue Hollywood dreams. During her 20s, she acted, earned a degree from the American Conservatory Theater and opened a branch of her mother's company in Beverly Hills. When she was planning her wedding, she became overwhelmed. The matchmaking business was soaring, so she quit acting.

Amber made a wise choice. The company says it's the largest privately owned matchmaking firm in the country. It employs 38 people and brings in $5 million annually. The company plans to go global and triple its revenue in two years.

"Amber has a lot of business savvy," says Lori Picou, a national client liaison. "Amber's very focused."

Business is strong because they get it right. Amber tells me story after story that sounds just uncanny. One time, a woman told Jill that she dated frequently but didn't have chemistry. After listening for a while, Jill asked if she'd considered one particular man, Mr. X. The woman was in shock because he was her ex-husband. Another time, a CEO wanted a tall blond younger than 35. The match who kept popping into Amber's mind, however, was an older, petite brunet celebrity. When Amber called the CEO to tell him, the line went silent. He told Amber that of all the celebrities, he'd always imagined himself with just one - the petite brunet.

"It's not like we're psychic," Amber says. "My mother's interviewed 40,000 people. I've interviewed 20,000. Everyone wants the same thing. We get off the paper and read between the lines."

They're highly literate.

Carole Shattil

Carole Shattil owes a lot to matchmaking.

Her grandfather, Julius, a Lithuanian native, had moved to the United States but found it difficult to meet a wife. So his sister arranged for her friend in Lithuania to be his bride. The two never saw each other before she arrived, but they married and stayed together for life. They bore three sons, one of whom was Shattil's father.

Sixteen years ago, Shattil founded CheckMatesInc., a firm that combines matchmaking with headhunting. Prices start at $2,500 for a trial membership, $5,000 for 18 months of local introductions and $10,000 for two years of local and Los Angeles pairings. The latter package allows clients to specify certain attributes in matches, such as high income, high profile or particular physical traits.

On this dreary winter day, Shattil is meeting with Mr. Retro Glasses (not his real name), who took an eight-month hiatus after seriously dating a match. The duo recently broke up, and Mr. Retro Glasses is back in Shattil's tiny office in One Embarcadero Center to dissect the situation and hear about his next match. It's like a therapy session.

"How'd you end things?" Shattil asks.

"There were compatibility issues," says Mr. Retro Glasses, a clean-cut financial executive. "There was tension at a family wedding."

"Belinda's been married. She's warm," Shattil says, showing a photo. "She has a master's in English literature."

Shattil continues, "A new person wanted to meet you. She's 42, married three years and divorced five years. She's a runner, volunteers for the Coast Guard and does marathons."

Mr. Retro Glasses whistles.

Later he tells me, "Carol's easy to get along with. She has a sense of what I like."

Another client concurs.

"She's very intelligent, outgoing and social," says Scott, a 56-year-old CEO of a biotechnology company. "She has many, many, many friends."

Shattil is a tall, thin woman in her late 40s who smiles constantly and wears a large section of her wildly curly hair haphazardly clipped back. She is a zealous reader, ballet dancer and music enthusiast. She's the type of woman who socializes with clients and visits their homes. Shattil's also driven to succeed. She e-mailed me at 12:40 a.m. to arrange our interview..

Shattil grew up in Chicago. Her father was an entrepreneur and her mother a teacher and homemaker. She studied psychology at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and was just starting her master's in movement therapy at UCLA when her father died at age 55. His death jolted Shattil, and she left school and worked as a corporate recruiter in Chicago. She married a furniture-maker, but divorced seven years later.

Shattil burned out in the corporate world and wanted more fulfilling work. She had already made a practice of fixing up her bosses and co-workers, so she decided to move to the Bay Area to create Check- MatesInc. with her sister.

Initially, Shattil's business provided blind dates, but was unsuccessful. Now she brings in clients for a psychological profile and chooses an initial pool of at least 12 matches. Clients browse through photos, discuss prospects and then select their own matches from the pool.

"They don't walk away saying, 'You picked the wrong person for me,' " Shattil says. "It's a team effort. You can't control chemistry. No one can. You can only present and give people what they want."

Business is picking up for Shattil, who recently reopened her Los Angeles office.